


shaking

by MementoMoriPontifexMortis



Series: Unofficial Whumptober 2k19 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Implied/Referenced Whump, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Past Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 15:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MementoMoriPontifexMortis/pseuds/MementoMoriPontifexMortis
Summary: Denmark visits Estonia after he’s been won his freedom from Russia. (Post-1991/Soviet Occupation fic)





	shaking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TinyTeddy878](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyTeddy878/gifts).

> i’m posting denest content! this is for whumptober 2019 because 31 fictober prompts wasn’t enough for me, i decided to add more. if any of you want to look at the fictober/whump.tober prompt list and prompt me a pairing/character/what have you, you 10000% can, please. kudos and comments fill me with joy.

Denmark watched with wide. confused eyes as the driver drove him farther and farther from Tallinn. He had expected Estonia to take up as close as he could to his capital, as most nations did, now that he was freed from Soviet occupation. But, no, the driver drove silently through the streets, the place where Denmark had first met Estonia getting more fuzzy in the back window.

Folding his hands in his lap, he stared out at the disappearing urban – and suburban – streets and watched as the world drifted towards the countryside. Denmark, himself, had never traveled to Estonia’s countryside, not even when he owned the land. Looking at it now, the large trees, surrounding houses that looked like they needed better repair, he wondered if he would’ve fallen in love with it if he had.

Pushing those thoughts out of his brain as the driver slowed, he readied himself. When he had called Estonia nearly a week ago, asking if he could come visit, he hadn’t been prepared for the emotions he would feel with his feet actually walking land he had once walked. Of course, the streets were different and everywhere Denmark looked, he could notice some Soviet influence. Even as far as he was from Tallinn, he could see bits and pieces of Ivan’s country overtaking Estonia’s. 

“Tänan,” he said as the car stopped in front of a house. It was old fashioned looking, but the roof had been repaired and the plants outside were new, obviously watered. The driver pulled out his luggage from the trunk and Denmark thanked him again - this time with a bit more money. It was a stupid habit he had started to pick up from meetings in America’s home. 

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his bag and lugged it towards the front door. His hand hesitated before he gave three large thumps on the sturdy wood. As he waited, he let his eyes drifted from the dark blue door towards the land surrounding the house. Forests were on either side, from what he could see, the street in front, a farm across. It seemed as if his former ward had made himself a nice little home. 

Though, Denmark thought as the wind blew, cold and sharp, that perhaps he hoped Estonia owned a place somewhere a little closer to others. 

The door opened as Denmark pulled his coat a little closer, “Taani.” Bright eyes, a large smile, Estonia stood tall as he leaned against the door frame. “You’re here!” 

“Of course I am,” he said, giving his own bright smile. “I said I wanted to visit this week.” 

Estonia nodded, “You did,” he said, before moving slightly, “Well come in, the weather forecast said it was going to be cold this week so I wasn’t sure-” 

“Well, there’s nothing on this earth that can keep me from you anymore,” Denmark said softly. He watched as Estonia bent his head forwards a little, blushing. “I missed you,” he added after a moment, no longer caring that the wind could cut into flesh. “I should’ve-” 

“No.” Estonia put a hand on his chest, stopping Denmark before he could finish his thought, “You couldn’t have stopped Mister - you couldn’t have stopped Russia from taking me or torching my old house. Please don’t blame yourself Nikolaj.” 

Hearing his name being said from the Estonian was like heaven. He sighed. “Eduard,” he breathed, moving to wrap an arm around him. 

“Come on in,” Eduard said softly, shaky hands as they pulled away from each other. “You’re freezing.“ 

"I feel warmer with you,” Denmark said, but picked up his bag and followed him in. 

The house was cozy warm, a bit too warm if he was being honest, and as soon as he placed his bag down, he shed the large winter coat he wore. A fire was going in the large stone fireplace and from the kitchen, he could smell dinner cooking. His stomach grumbled lightly and it brought a smile to Eduard’s lips. 

“Dinner’ll be done soon,” he said, “I’ll take your bag up to the guest room." 

As Eduard turned, Denmark felt his hope that they’d be able to rekindle a relationship falter a bit before he reminded himself that that was far too forward to think about. While they had been able to talk constantly on the phone, all they had done was focus on their friendship or their country relations. All this was, much to the inner part of his mind’s disappointment, was a friendly visit. 

Moving to put his coat up in the entryway, Nikolaj looked around the house as best as he could. Everything was mismatched - old couches sat next to new tables and lamps; new art covered the old cream colored walls; plants littered empty corners along with small trinkets. There was also an inordinate amount of knitted blankets lying around. 

Moving from the main room to the kitchen, Nikolaj opened the oven door, surprised to see that Eduard had yet to upgrade from a wood burning stove, yet excited to see what he figured was klassikaline ahjuliha. If there was one thing he’d be willing to admit is he truly missed Eduard cooking for him. Though he often had hit or misses with whether he liked the meal, a homemade meal always made him feel better. 

"Nikolaj,” Eduard called as he walked down the stairs. 

“Kitchen,” he called back, “I’ve missed your cooking.”

“I thought you said my food was bad more often than not?” Eduard pushed him away to check on it. 

Nikolaj shrugged. “Gonna be honest, I always thought you were trying to poison me when you cooked for me so I let Iceland try it and if he said it sucked, I wouldn’t eat it." 

"You know he could’ve been lying." 

"Yeah, I figured that out a little too late.” By time Norway pointed out that Estonia and his food was fattening up Iceland, his kingdom was starting to crumble around him. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, “Anyway, how have you been?" 

The question seemed to catch Eduard by surprise; he stalled in his movement, hands shaking again as he stared at the white bowls he had gotten from the cupboards. "I’m fine,” he answered after a second, shaking his head as he did so. “Very busy though. I’m constantly fielding phone calls from our fellow nations." 

"Well,” Nikolaj started slowly, hands reaching for the bowls, “Russia’s bosses kept most of us from being able to talk to you guys; we had to get clearance just to talk to Russia - it was impossible to even think about talking to any of you.”

“I know,” Eduard muttered, shaking his head, “I understand, it’s just fills my days up with talking and people asking me the same questions and I’d rather be helping my bosses or my people." 

"Talking to other nations is important,” Nikolaj said. “It helps make connections - and in our case, rekindle some." 

"Connections don’t stop-” he paused but Nikolaj could guess what was going unsaid. “No, you’re right, I have to stop thinking like that." 

Nikolaj moved forwards, putting the bowls down on the counter. "Eduard,” he muttered softly, ready to wrap his arms around the other. 

Eduard though moved far too quickly. “Could you go set the table?” He rubbed at his left arm, turning back to the oven, “There’s a salad in the fridge and there’s either beer, wine, or vodka, take your pick.”

Watching him, Nikolaj nodded. He picked up the bowls again and moved towards the little wooden table near the kitchen door. Placing them on different sides, he turned to get a beer from the fridge. He watched Eduard silently for a second. 

Norway - and Finland - had warned him that Eduard wouldn’t be the same as he had when Denmark had last seen him; gaining freedom only to lose it in a blink of an eye weighed heavily on one, Finland had said. Especially since living with Russia had been hard the last time. 

At the time, Nikolaj had just shook his head and ignored them, but now as he watched Eduard pull a pot from the oven and stir it with an intensity he had never seen before, he finally understood. 

Once upon a time, Eduard had gone at him with weapons, defending his people and his land with a fierceness that Nikolaj had fallen in love with; now he had trouble keeping his hands from shaking if he weren’t doing anything. Nikolaj felt his heart sink slightly. 

“Nikolaj?” Eduard spoke and while he was soft in his words, there was a slight edge behind them, “Close my fridge please." 

"Oh,” Nikolaj laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, mind went rambling." 

"It’s fine,” Eduard replied, turning to carry the oven pot towards the table. He shook his head and Nikolaj furrowed his brows, looking at the table. He was sure he got everything– “I know salads aren’t your favourite, but it’s apart of dinner,” Eduard teased.

Nikolaj rolled his eyes. “Where’s that potato dish of yours?” He liked that. 

“My potatoes are still growing,” Eduard answered, looking out the back door for a moment, “A couple more weeks and they should be done." 

"Maybe I should come back then,” he offered, giving a hopeful look as he made to sit. 

Eduard looked at him, eyes glazed over. “I’d like that,” he said, giving a smile, “Though you’ll have to help me harvest them.”

“I can do some farm work for some potatoes.” Nikolaj looked down at Eduard’s hands before looking to his face. Maybe one day he’d get the answers on what caused Eduard’s hands to shake, but at the moment, just being with him was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes.
> 
> Tänan = a form of thank you in Estonian. It's more formal, I think. Honestly don’t listen to me. I know the word kõik.  
klassikaline ahjuliha = classic pork roast or something similar. I was reading it on some Estonian forum; everybody, it seems, has a recipe for it.  
Potato harvest is fall/early winter. Can you grow potatoes in Estonia, I don’t know. Perhaps he has a greenhouse.  
It is my personal headcanon that Estonia lives on a farm. Why, you may ask. I don’t know, I just do. The house is nice and as times change, he modernizes it. It is also my headcanon that Estonia has always lived on a farm when living in his own country. He also owns an apartment in Tallinn.  
I always figured the Soviet Era was just a big isolation period for everyone on that side of the Iron Curtain. Like there was some contact, but at the same time, not a lot.


End file.
